Souls of the Fading Light
by Godskeybladewarrior
Summary: There can only be one Undead. But what if the Chosen One finds another, at the very place his journey began? Here there be problems. This new unknown Undead will journey alongside him, throughout Lordran to try to break the curse.
1. Chapter 0

Souls of The Fading Light

Chapter 0: A beginning and an End

I thank you, Solaire. As I stand before this swirling vortex to a forgotten land, I thank you. For all you have done for me. You were there every time I called out for you. You were a true friend. The battles we fought, the hilariousness of our shenanigans, the life we lived: I am glad you were by my side through it all.

But now...now I must forget. Forget you. Forget Tarkus. Forget Laurentus. Forget HIM. My soul weeps as I unwillingly take a step forward on this accursed ground. It's as if my body has a will of its own, forcing me to accept my fate. I smile as my hands cringe and the pupils of mine eyes expand. Because, even when time withers away the world I once knew, the land we five adored and lived in for years, your teachings still remain.

"You must learn to use your mind, before you can ever hope to wield a sword."

And so, I use it. I fight back. I feel my bonds begin to fade away. For a fleeting moment, I am free. My heart rejoices, yet my humanity and all it entails whispers doubt into my mind. I am not out of this yet. Without remorse, I feel my control get wrenched away, my mind simply staggering from this outpouring of power. I cannot hope to win against fate. Alas, I do the next best thing: accept it.

Time seems to stop as I take a deep breath, its raspy noise reaches my ears after I close my eyes. My arms spread out arm to arm like a cross, the lone lantern in my hand tries desprately to escape my grip as the wind passes by me, only to comeback stronger. With the last push of willpower, I push my arms to go up at an angle. The toes of my feet force themselves to move, causing me to gain an inch in height. From another's perspective, I would appear like a fool, a fool welcoming death. But to me...It is a salute. A last goodbye. A final act of reverence to those now gone, to heroes and heroin's whose death came too swiftly.

My eyes open as my hold over body begins to sway and my feet plant themselves to the old stone ground like the roots of an arch tree.

After a mere moment I feel a tear slide down my cheek. Because, this the end. The end to my story. Where it once began, long long ago, at this place, it ends. The ruined Firelink Shrine. After centuries of decay, the tree still remains. Just like me, standing tall against the very force of nature every living soul despises: death. Seeing this place in a state such as this creates a deep pit in my stomach. My journey is at an end. Yet, I cannot help but feel I am taking the steps into a new one.

I close my eyes and exhale slowly, carefully. Then, I felt my body surge forward into the maelstrom of dark waters. I feel the wind whip around my body as I fall further and further into the abyss.

'_The_ _Abyss_' I think to myself. Memory after memory come crashing down. Screams of pain, yells of a thousand warriors in battle, the clang of swords. The cry of a newborn, the shattering of glass and the whispers of a old, forgotten woman in red. Through it all, one memory shines the brightest: meeting him, the Chosen Undead. The Undead was many things to me, a friend, an ally, a teacher, a brother. And, with this memory in mind, I fall into the endless dark. My eyes feel heavy, my breathing slows, my arms begin to weaken. Closing my eyes, I fall to a sleep. Through this sleep, I relive my life, moment by moment.

Starting...with the beginning.

**AN: Here is the introduction to Dark Souls: Souls of the Fading Light! It initially started out as a one-shot to commemorate the release of Dark Souls 2 but as I wrote, it changed into what you see now. I based this off the introductory cinematic of Dark Souls 2. Some of it is different but I'd like to think it fits what I have in mind. I initially began this fiction a few weeks back but due to life, I never completed chapter 1, which was actually supposed to be the intro. Now, this takes its place. I hope to upload CH1 by this week or the next. The main duo will be The Cursed and Chosen Undead's. Side Characters will be Solaire, Lorentus (forgot how to spell it correctly), Iron Tarkus (he will be badass!), and the lovely wizards: Big Hat Logan!**

**There shall be a villian or two, depends where I go on from my main outline.**

**Wow, long AN! 0.o oooooopsy!**

Next Chapter: Chapter 1: His Savior, Stra


	2. Chapter 1: His Savior, A Strange Warrior

**Dark Souls: Souls of the Fading Light**

**AN: Thanks guys for reading this new entry to my story! This is a short authors not because there will be one at the very end. OH! I nearly forgot a disclaimer….crap.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Souls or anything pertaining to this beloved franchise. I do however, own my OC's, whom I shall not name for risk of spoilers. PRAISE THE SUN!**

Chapter One: His Savior, A Strange, Unreal Warrior

The Chosen Undead's silver helm glowed in light of the bonfire's flame, its warmth enveloped him like a mothers love. Beside him sat Seth of Carim, a young teen who could hardly wield a great sword. The light glimmered and flickered off their identical Elite Knight armor, the only difference was that Seth did not wear a helm. His slightly long black hair rested on his shoulders, only moving with the slightest whisper of wind. His blue eyes watched the flame dance in the wind, his arms covering his knees as if a child huddled in a corner. He might as well be a child, for he only entered this land a mere day ago. In a dim, foul smelling cell, he awoke with no memory. No recollection of who he might have been before thrown into the Undead Asylum. All he could remember was his name and what country he hailed from. He lost track of time in that cell. He could have been in it for a day. Maybe even a year! None of that mattered after he met the Chosen Undead, his savoir, his silent guardian.

**Flashback**

He was simply sitting in the cell, blankly looking at the four walls when he heard a loud, inhuman screech not far off. Seth tried to stand, but in his hollowed state he did not have the strength to do so. Even as a human, he wasn't exactly the strongest, toughest, or fastest. But he was the smartest. So, he did what he could: he crawled. Using his arms, legs and elbows he got to the locked iron door. Reaching upwards, his burnt looking hands grasp the metal bars on the doors excuse of a window. Using what little strength he had, he pulled himself up, dangling from his arms until he could balance himself with his feet. Peering out, the raven haired teen saw an empty hallway, long dead corpses of hollows lining it. From this he suspected that the jailers to this rundown place were long gone.

Yet...that noise, what was it? he wondered. It certainly was not human, nor hollow.

Out of seemingly nowhere, a large crash echoes throughout the Asylum. The sound of brick tumbling and crashing follows it.

Seth felt his blood run cold, his hair stick out as his hands grip the rusted iron bars tighter. He was frightened. The entire building could have been collapsing for all he knew. His eyes caught sight of a small dust cloud flowing through a wall of iron bars. When the dust drifted away, Seth nearly had a heart attack.

A large demon stood in a even larger room, it's plump body lumbering slowly to a shadowy figure. Seth blinked a few times. Never before had he seen a demon. Its body was a disgusting lump of fat on legs, two chubby arms hefted a large mace. The mace could very well have been called a hammer due to its large size. The demons head was box shaped with tiny bones protruding out of its skull, giving it the appearance of a crown.

Seth stared in awe at it. Despite its size, the Stray Demon raised its large hammer swiftly at the figure, who barely dodged out of the way as it hit the ground with a loud clang. Large chunks of gravel flew upwards at the impact. The figure righted himself. The Stray Demon turned towards him but the figure ran between its legs and got behind it before the creature could even think to react.

The warrior stabbed its leg, doing hardly any substantial damage. The demon brought its' fat covered knee up, the blow connected with the Warriors face. Or, what would have been his face. In that small window of time the Warrior brought his Black Knight Shield to meet the bone-crushing blow. The impact of metal on kneecap reverberated through the shield, dispersing the initial blow into its sturdy frame.

Seth continued to watch as the Warrior followed up with a Grand Fireball which cooked the belly of the beast. The boy could smell its foul stench from his cell, Gwyn only knew what the Warrior was going through. The smell of the now crisp and crunchy demon spewed forth similar to a drakes fire-breath. The Warrior held his breath, as if breathing the smelly air was like breathing poisonous gases. The demon was now enraged, its eyes started to glow and its teeth grew larger. The Demon Hammer gave off wisps of blackish purple smoke as it was clenched tightly by angry hands.

Normal soldiers or fighters would get frightened by this true display of the power of chaos. Yet the Warrior stood his ground, for he had faced much worse. The terrors he had witnessed would turn any man insane. The slaughtering of innocence, the pillaging of the dead, the lifelessness of hollows, the deception of snakes. Every battle the Warrior had fought and bled in, he won. By strength, through endurance, having faith, increased vitality and a small amount of luck...he lived. The Warrior did not come this far down the road to run away. In fact, he ran forwards. Shield up and sword in hand, he bashed the Stray Chaos Demon. Staggering his opponent, the Warrior jumped into action and chopped its side. With a guttural growl, the Demon swatted at the Warrior, sending him sliding on the dust covered stone.

The Demon limped over to his prone form slowly, blood seeping from its wounds on the leg and side. The monster dragged its hammer with a weak arm, it was nearly dead but with a final burst of primal rage the thing moved faster with each passing second. On the ground, the Warrior came to. Looking up, he could see the demon speeding towards him. Instinctively, he reached for his sword, instead he grasped at an empty scabbard. He looked to and fro frantically but his sharp green eyes found no sign of his weapon. The Demon was nearly on him now. Behind his helm, the Warriors face grew dark. No weapon, no shield, no escape. He used up the only pyromancy he brought on the damned behemoth. His situation was grim. The Demon stood over him, its over-sized hammer raised ready for a final blow. The Warrior let out a shaky breath as he closed his eyes, ready to meet his demise.

Seth watched in horror, his mouth agape. Within the span that the Demon slammed down its hammer, he was barely able to mutter one word.

"No."

Opening his eyes, the Warrior moved with incredible speed, pushing off the ground and grabbed the incoming hammers tip. In a second he was already running atop the arm of the Chaos Demons arm.

Pulling a sharp looking dagger out of his boot, he sent the blade sailing into the throat of the demon. He then proceeded to pull the blade out, letting its black blood to ooze like a thick geyser of sludge. The Warrior, realizing the Demon was finished, sheathed his dagger and hopped off the beasts corpse as it fell backwards and dissipated into a vast amount of souls, most likely the souls of those who were once imprisoned in the Asylum.

The Warrior looked around the immediate area, remembering his sword and shield, both of which would most likely be in a state of disrepair. The Warrior also noticed a ladder leading up to an opening in the wall, near his old cell. He would have to go there later after he found his weapons. Scanning the walls and corners, he saw his sword lying a few feet to the left and his shield in a corner close to where he first fell into the area. The swords' blade was blunted and twisted in a odd angle. Thankfully he knew an old blacksmith in the Undead Church that could easily fix it and with luck make it even better than before. His shield was another matter. The shield was perfectly fine, but its arm straps were a bit loose but he could fix it in his own time. broken sword in his right hand and shield in his left, the Warrior headed up the ladder. All the while Seth continued to watch this strange man.

How was he able to move that fast and kill such a large terrifying beast? the boy thought to himself. The Warrior turned to the cell that Seth occupied and if he saw Seth through its barred window, he showed no sign of it. He walked up to the door and did an unexpected action. He rapped his knuckled fist on it thrice and another two times. Seth's face wore a questioning look. The Warrior took notice and looked at the boys blue eyes with his green.

"Move." he commanded. His voice rang with authority. "There is something in there that I need, young hollow."

Seth moved immediately to the left of the door as the Warrior reared his gloved fist back and sent it forth with the force that could shatter the scales of dragons. The door went flying, its hinges pooping and clattering on the mold covered ground. Seth was transfixed at this unreal display of strength. The Warrior walked slowly into the cell, as if remembering his long weeks alone in the cell. He moved his head to the sky, looking through the hole that got noticeably larger than before.

Snow was falling like frozen drops of blood sliding down a wall of air. Lines of light filtered through the stormy grey clouds, pouring into the hole and onto the disfigured body on the ground. The light did nothing to help its features, the body was black and disfigured beyond recognition but such was a regular sight for the Warrior. Crouching down, the Warrior flipped the body on its back, and with a bit of forcefulness, the helmed undead pried its hands apart to reveal an old and ratty strange doll in strange dress.

The Warrior put the doll in a pouch on his right hip, and it seemingly disappeared into the dark emptiness of its shadowed insides. He then turned back whence he came, seeming to ignore Seth's very existence. However, before his brown leather boots hit the crumbling floor of the Asylum's hallway, The Warrior turned to the boy. The Warrior leaned against the door frame and spoke to him.

"Do you wish to stay and hollow or come with me?"

Snapping out of his dazed state, Seth didn't know how to respond. He tried to form a response yet his words escaped him each time. Taking his attempts to communicate as an affirmation to his offer, the Warrior moved swiftly down the hallway, stepping over the long dead hollow corpses littered across the floor. Seth followed silently, wondering who this strange, almost unreal Warrior was. One thing was certain, he was his savior.

The Warrior continued down the hallway, looking behind every so often to check for the young man. He was intrigued by the boy to say the least. Who was he? How did he get to the Undead Asylum in the first place? It had been deserted for a while now that he freed all the imprisoned hollows in his initial escape. "All thanks to that blasted Oscar...You crazy knight", he thought to himself, chuckling to himself out-loud.

Taking a right, the two entered a raised wall, almost semi-circular. The wall stood at least a few feet higher than the Warriors head. The Warrior spotted the old rusted latter, noticing a few of the steps were completely rusted away.

"You first." he said as Seth walked up from behind, still trying to walk correctly without falling. His gnarled hands were bracing him on the wall so he wouldn't lose his balance.

Seth gave him a questioning look. the Warrior replied in turn with a a jerk of his thumb in the direction of the reddish green ladder.

"I don't want to carry you all the way out of here, hollow." he then swiftly moved behind the black haired teen and gave him a slight push to the hanging exit. "Besides, you obviously need the exercise!"

Seth simply complied and tried to move up the steps, making sure his footing was true and correct. His muscles ached at the slightest movement and his legs felt as if they were on fire. Being a hollow was a pain in the ass for sure, and everywhere else on the body. After a minute or so of struggle, Seth came out into the second floor, panting and groaning as his arms screamed in agony. The Warrior followed shortly, his Elite Knight Helmet and its grey metal sheen hid his growing smirk. He was glad the boy was in pain.

"Pain is just a different way of learning and if you experience it over and over again...you just might learn something." he stated, holding his hand out for Seth to take. "Besides, you're not the first person to be a hollow...nor will you be the last."

Seth took it and with a tug, the Warrior pulled him up on his feet. The Warrior started to walk away and go but he paused for a moment. He shook his head wildly, side to side and turned back to the fatigued hollow.

"Lets go." he ordered, his voice getting cold. "We need to leave this place before nightfall."

After a few twists and turns, the Warrior opened a large set of double doors. the way opened up into a large courtyard with a lone bonfire in the middle. Across the way was a small set of stairs that led to another set of doors and behind it: a mob of undead with murderous intent.

Seth sat down by the bonfire, sigh gladly as he rested his legs. The Warrior stayed far off, his arms folded as he stared into the flame. He closed his eyes, his ears listening to the song of the crackling of fire and whisper of the wind. Its music was soothing, even in a dreadful place such as this one could find peace. Except, something was off.

The Warrior concentrated closely, listening with more intent, his ears scanning and moving past the groaning of metal and the howling of the mountain wind hitting the walls of the Asylum. A light pattering of feet could be heard just to the left. No, not the left, from behind! The Warrior opened his eyes and turned around swiftly just in time to doge a blow from a shield bash. The Warrior rolled to the left as he saw another flash come from the right. Focusing he realized what he was seeing. A helm of silver, armor and chain mail adorned in velvet cloth dyed blue and a sword as sharp as a dragons tooth and a shield as hard as dragon scales: Oscar of Astora...or what was left of him. Behind that helm were crazed eyes that hungered only for souls. He was no longer a man, but a monster.

The Warrior let out a breath as he prepared himself for what he knew would be a tough fight. No weapons, no shield and very limited space. Not only that but there was now a potential casualty standing off to the right.

His hands turned into fists as he rushed the now hollowed Oscar. With a mighty jump, he launched into the air and with all of his will, he focused all of his soul into his hand, a blue whirlwind of energy encompassed his coming fist.

"Prepare to Die!" he yelled just before the blow connected.

**End Flashback**

Seth sat there continuing to stare at the orange and yellow flames. He remembered that they both left the Asylum not long afterwards, although with a new set of armor and a few dents to go along with it. The flight from the Asylum to Lordran was a lengthy one, Seth had nearly fell on his buttocks then the Crow of Vilka came swooping in. The Warrior, or as the locals of Firelink Shrine call him. The Chosen Undead simply laughed at the boy's antics, and advised him to rest until they arrived. The journey had taken them a day to get to the Shrine and it was near twilight, with the moon and sun sharing the maroon and yellow sky. The Chosen Undead advised the boy to sleep by the fire but he had other business to attend to. While Seth slept soundly, the Undead went silently through the Undead Burg in the dead of the night, avoiding hollows and the Knights of Balder. The fights he did get into went as quick as they came, the man absorbing their souls to strengthen his own. It took him nearly two hours to reach the Undead Church, and inside was his old friend, the blacksmith Andre who was sleeping like a baby with his hammer clutched in his arms like toy doll. It was a humorous sight to see for certain.

The Warrior rested at the bonfire for a brief moment, checking his wares and stock of supplies he had in his inventory. A few slabs of Titanite and two green, it was not much but it would do. He got up off his feet and went down the stairs, running his hand along the black antiquated railing as he descended the once pristine marble steps. At the bottom of the steps was a mass array of weapons and armor, some he recognized and some he did not. To his right was a blacksmiths anvil and beside that was a broken down wall and inside the hole was an entire armory of weapons and armor. That was a new addition he had helped with a few months prior, along with a few friends of his. It allowed for Andre to have more materials and workspace and in return, a large discount. The Chosen Undead walked carefully, tiptoeing as to avoid causing a racket and stirring up trouble, or more than he was about to. Thankfully, the gods were merciful and he did not bump into a single sword or spear as he crossed the way into the extension of the church. Andre was asleep in a cot at the back of the place, his hammer hugged tightly in his arms of iron.

With a sigh, The Chosen Undead cringed at his next order of business: awaken a sleeping bear….and try not to get mauled in the process.

After a slight heated exchange of rather crude words and a few fake swings followed shortly by bouts of laughter, Andre was filled in on what the Chosen Undead wanted, nodding slowly at the explanation: he wanted Oscars armor not only repaired and refined for maximum protection, but also resized. Andre gave him an odd look but went to work immediately, even though it was late at night. He was getting paid nearly three times the usual rate after all. The old Astorian veteran worked throughout the night, even letting the Undead help him with a few odd things here and there. Once finished, the Warrior gave his thanks and went into the newer church, mentally reprimanding himself for forgetting about the damned elevator. At the bottom he jumped off and landed softly on his feet, turning swiftly to the right and went down the familiar way to the bonfire. Along his way he passed Petrus of Jorlound, a slightly plump cleric who had been a helpful teacher in miracles. He gave a hello as he passed by, for the man was sitting down and eating a small piece of cheese. There was no doubt it was possibly three times that size a minute ago. Finally arriving at the lone bonfire, Seth was there sitting patiently, awaiting his arrival.

"Where have you been all night?"

The Undead simply ignored his interrogation and pulled out a loaf of bread and tossed it at the blue eyed boy. He had bought that on his way through the burg, food was scarcer than anything else in Lordran.

"What's this for?" the teen asked, looking upon the loaf in his hollowed hands.

"What do you think it's for kid? For food." retorted the Warrior. He started to unravel the large sack he had over his shoulder while Seth began to devour the bread. In it was many different pieces to a set of armor, all perfectly handcrafted by the finest blacksmiths in Astora and blessed by the clergy, or what passed for holly men.

The Chosen Undead stood up slowly, gazing at the rising sun as he his hands gripped the sides of his helmet. Seth looked up at the man, intrigued by this action.

"The sun is most beautiful in its beginning and end." started the Warrior, his hands pulling upwards on his helmet as he spoke. "The same can be said for anything in this world or any world. For the Flame will Fade and only Dark will remain. If that is so, and I am the Chosen Undead…"he strayed off. A slight tug and a twist of motion, his closed helm fell to the dew covered grass, shining like a falling star in a blackest of night. His eyes were closed and his face looked peaceful. His strong jaw was relaxed and his high cheekbones made him seem like a man any woman would wish to have in their bed, and yet there was a strange aura about him that made him seem unapproachable. His hair was a dark milky brown and cut short. His chin was adorned with small amount of hair, not unlike a spider's leg protruding under a heavy rock. All in all, the Warrior and Chosen Undead was a handsome fellow but still a tad plain looking.

Opening his eyes, he turned around and faced Seth and said in a sure voice, "Then I will be sure the end of this Age is as beautiful as its beginning. That is my goal, my oath."

Seth blinked a few times in bewilderment, not really knowing how to respond. The Chosen Undead however, reached down for his helmet and placed it back on his head. He then extended his arm downwards and grasped the sack laid at his feet and heaved it down at Seth's feet.

"Put it on, we need to get going. We have a long journey ahead of us, and then some." He explained as he started walking away.

The raven haired teen reached into the sack and grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on. His eyes was stunned at the Elite Knight Helmet in his hands, it was in pristine condition and newly polished. Seth then looked back at the Chosen Undead who was still walking away.

"Where are we going?" he asked, a feeling of excitement seeping into his body,

His savior answered:

"Anor Londo. The City of the Gods."

**AN: Boom! And there ladies and gentlemen is Chapter 1 of Souls of the Fading Light. Honestly, I know the introduction chapter was first person and this was in third but I think I like this more. However, if you like first person to be a better narrative option for this story, please tell me. I might include a few parts here and there in first person. So, pop a review and tell me what you thought! Because I think the beginning of this chapter is trash compared to the rest. Also another thing, I explained this to one of my peeps who favorite this story and/or followed it: j. e. dios (sorry that I can't remember your name off the top of my head.): The over-powered nature of the Chosen Undead/ the Warrior. I've been watching a lot of anime lately, namely Sword Art Online, Naruto (only on season 5 of series 1) and Log Horizon. Those shows have over the top action, coupled with semi-realistic damaging. That's what I'm trying to go for in SotFL. I want the Chosen Undead to be OP, because he has lived for an unknown amount of time in Lordran. Time is a funny thing in Lordran. The name Seth came from my one shot of Dark Souls:Celebratons, which is now technically an AU of this canon. ANDDDD! The Chaos Form mechanic….hehehehe….Spoilers, but I wanted to add something new to the same old stuff and I thought, why not make the enemies even more powerful. The Demon in this chapter is meant as a teaser for more ridiculous forms of enemies, which is difficult for even a group to take down without the right strategy. I wanted to stop the chapter where TCO yelled Prepare to die but, that would seem silly, kind of like cutting an episode halfway through. Okay! Time for answer time for my reviewers! A huge thanks to you all, and to those who (I hope) will begin to do so, because I can't better myself as a writer and idealist without your input!**

**Reveiwer : B (AKA guest)**

**Honestly, I totally agree with you on that issue, and here you go! But I fear th quality does not match up to your standards, nor my own. **

**Reviewer: Deadzeppelin**

**Your wish will be fulfilled in the coming chapter…Solaire will be coming to Souls of the Fading Light, but not in a way you might expect….to quote River Song "Spoilers." **

**Reviewer: Alone in the Blight**

**You might recognize Seth, just saying. And I might also include the OC based off you in this fic, but I don't know yet. Praise the Sun! \[T]/**

**Reviewer: 1nconcievable **

**Man, my spellcheck is hating on your name! XP any who, I don't have DS2 yet, nor will I probably ever will until I move out, parents house, parents rules. But, no I won't be doing any DS2 stuff, or I don't have anything planned for this sort of beginning story, but I plan on doing a flash forward here and there but not with the Cursed Undead. Oh….ummmmmm…im a guy so this is awkward, *ahem* squeeeee?**

**Reviewer: Mr. Selfish**

**Do you mind if I call you shellfish? Cause you remind me of Shellfish, but hopefully you don't act like those clams in Seeths Crystal Barbie Library of Doom. Also, I hope the description is up to par in this chapter as with the last. Tata for now!**

**Reviewer: Culebra del Sol**

**Naming yourself after a castle or a snake? I give you props man, or woman….whatever. lol. Thank you very much for that ridiculous praise. I'm glad I caught your attention, but if you want me to go back to first person, just say the word. I hope I get to drag you further into my Abyss of a story!**

**Anyways, wow. Long $$ AN. Too long. Okay, thanks guys and don't forget to PM, Review and/or favorite me, because I can't make this story better without yalls input and reviews help me greatly! I can't stress that enough.**

**Next Chapter: Chapter 2: Forced Cooperation, His friend, Jolly**


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